


Bullets and Whiskey

by MissDeathy



Category: Supernatural, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-27
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-03-09 05:54:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3238763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissDeathy/pseuds/MissDeathy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kalida Winchester is the sister of Sam and Dean Winchester. No one ever said being a Winchester was easy. As the middle child between Sam and Dean, that’s especially true. Baby Brother Moose and Princess Deanna are not exactly the easiest people to live with; then again, Kallie isn’t, either. She hears thoughts and feels energies— but that doesn’t get in the way of the Winchester attitude. God, that’s a cheesy summary. The Winchester Three fight bad monsters. Not a crackfic, though it has some humour.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, all! I don’t own SPN or any of the characters associated with it. That’s all CW’s. Except Kalida. Kalida is mine. All mine. Muahahaha.  
> I feel like that fell a little flat.  
> Oops.  
> Shout out to JudeWinchester on Tumblr, who read over what I had at the time and enjoyed it.  
> Warning: this is written in 1st person. Please give it a shot before you run away!

**_“Family is not an important thing. It is everything.”_ **  
**_– Michael J. Fox_ **

        “I’m so proud of you, Sammy,” I chirped over the phone to my younger brother. “I know you’ll get in.”        
            “Thanks, Allie. At least you’re proud of me.”  
            “Sam Winchester, don’t you start. Dad’s proud of you, even if he won’t say it. It’s the same with Dean.” I paused for a second, deciding to change the subject to something safer. “How are things with Jess?”  
            “Things are good.” His voice faded for a minute, and I could hear him talking to Jess. “Yeah, hold on, Jess. I’m talking to Allie.” Jess responded in the background. A minute passed and he started talking to me again. “I’m gonna propose to her soon.”  
            “I’m happy for you, Sam.” And I was, but I’d be damned if he used me as an excuse not to go to the party he had been complaining about earlier. “Go to your Halloween party thing. Don’t accidentally forget to dress up, either.”  
            “Whatever. Love you, Allie. I’ll talk to you later.”  
            “Love you too, Sammy. Bye.” Dean chose that moment to walk through the door of the motel room.  
            “Who was that?” I gave him a look.  
            “You know who it was.” _Sam._ His thought floated through my head and I gave him an annoyed glance. “Good job, Sherlock.”  
            “Kalida, don’t start.”  
            “Fuck off, Dean.” There was no heat behind it; I was spent from looking for any sign of our AWOL father. “Did you find anything on Dad?”  
            “You know I didn’t.” He plopped down on his bed and fell back onto the mustard yellow sheets with a sigh. _I don’t know what to do anymore, Kallie._  
            “Is it really that difficult to use your vocal chords?”  
            “Missouri said you should be using your psychic shit.”  
            “Yeah, well your energy is giving me a headache. Excuse me for not wanting to acknowledge it.” The headache part wasn’t a lie, although admittedly a slight understatement.  A migraine was beginning to blossom from my temples. Dean’s desperation and anger was like a double-whammy right in the chest. I lied back on my own bed and covered my face with a pillow, which was soon removed by Dean. His energy confused me. The anger and desperation hadn’t gone away. The double-whammy of that cocktail was still hitting hard, but resolve was peppered in with it.  
            “We’re going to get Sam.” He pressed painkillers and a shot of whiskey into my hands, the sun warmth of his hope clearing the migraine a bit.  
            “Dean…”  
            “Kallie, we’ve been looking for him for months and nada. He’s nowhere to be found.” The feeling of sun warmth dimmed.  
            “Dad doesn’t want to be found. There’s no reason we should drag Sam into this clusterfuck.”  
            “You know what? Maybe you’re right. Maybe Dad doesn’t want to be found. There’s no reason we shouldn’t be looking for him,” Dean tried to reason with me. I swallowed the pills and the whiskey, sat up, and slammed the shot glass onto the nightstand. His energy faded until I could only feel it if I deliberately felt for it. Already, I was breathing easier, but that didn’t mean my annoyance at him went away.  
            “Wait until he starts giving some fucking orders. We’ll see if you’re still so gung-ho to look for him after he tells us to stop.” The words flew from my mouth with frustrated venom. He glared at me.  
            “Pack your bag, we’re going to Stanford.” It wasn’t a suggestion, at least in Dean’s mind, but I was in pain and tired of his shit. I stood up and pushed his chest, knocking him back a few inches.  
            “Since when do you get to order me around? Did you suddenly become Dad? I didn’t think so. I’m sick of you thinking you’re better than me by virtue of age. Why do we need to bring Sam into this?” I crossed my arms and glared.  
            “Sam’s a better researcher than either of us are. Maybe he’ll be able to find Dad.”  
            “Dad won’t be found unless he wants to be found. When he does call, he’ll order us to stop looking,” I stated harshly.  
            “For once in your life, would you stop acting like you know everything?” Dean’s voice was clipped, and I could tell I had hit a nerve.  
            “Tell me what you really want out of this. If it was just to find Dad, you’d let Sam be.”  
            Dean gave me his famous bitchface. “Why don’t you go through my head and see for yourself?”  
            I rolled my eyes and gave him the bitch brow. _We’ve been over this, Dean._ “That’s an invasion of privacy. I can’t control hearing directed thoughts or feeling energies. I can avoid going through your head. Besides,” I scoffed and pushed his arm, “I don’t want to see the sick shit in your mind.” He shook his head and rubbed his neck.  
            “You’re sick shit,” he mumbled. That earned him a soft whack to the back of the head.  
            “Lame comeback. You just miss Sam, you fucker.”  
            “Yeah, yeah, don’t need to be so arrogant about it,” he grumbled back. “So, I figure we leave right now, we can be there by noon tomorrow.” A chuckle escaped me.  
            “You’re funny, Dean- you really think I’m going anywhere right now? How about we get some sleep. Leave in the morning. Y’know, kinda like your one-night stands.” It was Dean’s turn to chuckle.  
            “Why don’t you get some more whiskey and try to sleep?”  
            “Sounds like a grand plan to me.” I filled my shot glass, raised it to him, and knocked it back.

****

            “Hey, Sammy. I guess we’re coming out,” I groaned into the phone, rubbing my face. With the phone balanced between my face and my shoulder, I pulled on a pair of jeans and managed to kick Dean lightly at the same time.  
            “Do you know what time you’ll be here?” He sounded groggy as well, having probably woken up a few minutes before I called.  
            “Well, we’re in Montana, so probably when you’re heading to bed. I need more whiskey.”  
            Sam scoffed at me. “You really should tone it down on the drinking, Allie. Your liver is going to off itself one of these days.”  
            I sighed. “Spare me your lecture, Sam. You know I’m sober when it’s time for ass kicking.”  
            “It’s freaky how you do that. It’s almost like you sweat all the alcohol out at once and become magically sober.”  
            I chuckled. “One, it’s called an adrenaline rush, College Boy. Two, definitely not the freakiest thing that’s ever happened in our family. We’re the fucking Winchesters. For most of us, beer is like water. You, on the other hand… One shot of Jack and you’re shitfaced.”  
            “Excuse me for not drinking like a fish,” Sam teased.  
            “Fish don’t drink, Sammy. They breathe water.”  
            “Whatever.” Dean groaned and moved a little, slowly showing signs of life.  
            “I gotta go. Deanna’s waking from her beauty sleep.” Sam snorted and returned the farewell.  
            “Ugh, who was that?”  
            “Morning, princess,” I taunted him. “C’mon, if we want to get there by nightfall, we better hit the road. I want some more damn whiskey.”  
            “You drink more than I do, Kallie. That can’t be healthy.”  
            I smirked slightly at Dean unknowingly echoing the beginning to Sam’s lecture. “Yeah, yeah. Get off my ass about it,” I replied in a teasing tone.  
            “I’m serious, Kallie. You’re gonna get alcohol poisoning or somethin’.” _I’m worried about you, Kallie. You’re drinking more than you usually do, and that’s saying a lot. We have got to find a better way to deal with this._  
            “Don’t worry so much. I’m fine.”  
            “It’s my job to worry about you. It has been ever since-”  
            “Ever since the fire? Ever since Dad started dragging us everywhere? I’m twenty-four. I think I can handle myself.”  
            “Obviously not, if you’re drinking yourself into almost oblivion every day. We gotta find another way to handle this.” I rolled my eyes, but nodded and grabbed my bag for the sake of time.  
            “Whatever. Come on, let’s hit the road. We should get there before Sam goes to sleep.” Dean grabbed his bag and walked out the door. _You comin’, Allie?_  “Yeah, yeah.” I followed suit and hopped into the Impala, being careful of Dean’s precious upholstery.

***

            “C’mon, Allie, let’s go!”  
            I rolled my eyes and took a sip out of my hip flask. “Dean, why don’t we just hit a motel and wait until morning?” Traffic hadn’t exactly been cooperative on our way to the liquor store, and we had been delayed by more than a few hours. “Sam might beat the ever-living shit out of you. It’s like two in the morning.”  
            Dean, in turn, rolled his eyes and whacked the top of his car. “I doubt it, Kal. He’s probably out of shape; he’s been out of hunting for years.”  
            “Dean.” Skepticism threw one of my eyebrows up. “Sam was always the health-conscious one out of the three of us. Do you honestly think he slacked on physical activity because he went to college? I’m betting he’s taking a yoga class or some shit like that. Let’s just hit that motel.”  
            “Scaring him will be the best part. Don’t be a buzzkill.” Dean was doing his version of pouting, which included begging me in his thoughts. _Please, Kallie? Please? C’mon, let me have some fun for once. You owe me for you interrupting me getting laid._  
            “Dean, that chick you were gonna hook up with would have killed you. Hello, succubus?”  
            “Can’t you just go with me on this one,” he groaned back at me.  
            I pulled out my phone and sent Sam a quick text, rolling my eyes at Dean.  
            **_Sammy, I’m pretty sure Dean’s going to bust in there and try to scare the shit out of you. I tried to stop him, but you know how he is._** **~KW**  
            “Fine, Deanna. Cease your pouting. Let’s go.” I put my phone back in my pocket and sighed, opening the door of the Impala and climbing out.  
            “I wonder if our little brother got himself a girl.”  
            I whacked the back of Dean’s head. “Dean, I’m letting you scare the shit out of him. I’m not letting you talk about his sexual/romantic life like that.” He chuckled.  
            “That mean that he got himself a girl?” To him, I probably looked ridiculous with my mouth hanging slightly open and my head tilted to the side. Scratch that- I _knew_ he thought I looked ridiculous.  
            “You’re gonna catch flies, Kallie. I’m not dumb. I know you talk to Sammy a lot. I just wish you wouldn’t lie to me about it.” I rolled my eyes at him, mentally acknowledging that he was probably right. _Hey, Allie, I hear your eyes roll out of your head if you do that too much._  
            “Oh, shut up, Dean. Let’s just go scare the bejeezus out of Sam.” My phone buzzed against my hip.

            **_Got it. Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you two in a few minutes._** _~SW_  
  
            When we got up to Sam’s apartment door, Dean sunk to the floor in a crouch to pick the lock.  
            “Or, you know, we could just knock,” I mumbled and proceeded to knock. The door swung open and there was Sammy. All six feet, four inches of him. His brown hair had gotten slightly longer since the last time I’d seen him, and his hazel eyes were alight with amusement. _Thanks for the heads up, sis._ I nodded at him.  
            “Dude, were you really gonna break into my apartment?” Dean rose from his crouch and did the man hug thing with Sam, who laughingly went along with it.  
            “Good to see you too, Sammy. Got any beer?” I rolled my eyes and took a swing from my flask.  
            “Dean, we were just at a liquor store a few hours ago. You could have picked some beer up there.” At this, my baby brother’s eyebrows contracted into a concerned expression. “Sam, I’m fine. Stop your worrying, bitchcakes. I’m okay.” Of course, it was a bit hard to be sincere when a pounding headache was threatening to turn into a full-on migraine. I groaned and massaged my temple with the ball of my hand. Their concern- which, with my weird psychic shit, tasted like lemon pudding- was almost overwhelming.  
            “Kallie, how am I supposed to not worry about you? I mean, you sounded less than at your best on the phone, but you look a little like hell.”  
            “Thank you for those kind and uplifting words, Sammy.” My hand moved to tug at my sleeve. “But I’m fine. Dean wants you to come with us. Dad is currently AWOL.” The last few words were pained, as my headache was getting steadily worse. _Kallie, we’re going to talk about this later._ Through the pain, I managed to give Sam a look that could peel paint off walls. “I’m _fine,_ guys.” I rummaged through my denim jacket pocket for some pain meds and popped them in my mouth, chasing it down with, you guessed it, a swig of whiskey from my flask.  
            “Sam?” A new voice- to Dean, anyway- called groggily. I put the flask back in my pocket and looked up to see Sam with his arm around a gorgeous blonde with a beauty mark on the edge of her mouth.  
            “My siblings came over for a bit. We’re just talking. Sorry if we woke you, Jess.”  
            “No, it’s alright. Dean and Allie?” She looked at each of us in turn, earning a grin and a wave from me and a disbelieving thought from Dean. _I can’t believe Sam’s got a girl this good looking._  
            “That’s us, Jess! I think we’ve spoken on the phone before,” I stated and was rewarded with a bear hug from the barely clothed woman.  
            “Gotta tell ya,” I interrupted Dean.  
            “Don’t you dare, Dean Winchester, or so help me, I will kick your ass from here to Tuesday.” _Yeah, like you could do it with all that alcohol in your system,_ he mentally taunted.My bitchface was on full-force by that point. Sam cleared his throat.  
            “Jess, why don’t you go back up to bed? I’ll be up as soon as I can.” As soon as Jess was back in the bedroom, Sam turned to Dean with his own bitchface.  
            “Could you tell me what the hell you wanted?”  
            Dean did his little tilt-nod thing. “Yeah, about that. Dad’s been missing for a few months. Not that you didn’t know. I’m sure our dear sister here has been keeping you updated.”  
            I huffed. “Dean, could you cut the shit? I get you’re pissed at me for not telling you that I was talking to Sam and that you’re worried about my drinkin’ habits, but can we not do this right now? If you’re going to keep up with this, I’ll just take Sam and we’ll disappear.”  
            _Kallie, I think that was the longest few sentences you’ve said in months,_ Sam half-jokingly thought.  
            “Would you listen to yourself, Kalida?”  
            With that, I quietly blew up on him, like a grenade with a silencer on it, if such a thing were possible. “You know,” I seethed, “I would. I would listen to myself, if I fucking could. But no, I’m too fucking busy trying to drown out you. You and your fucking energies and thoughts. I’m too busy drinking away my liver to numb my head. I’m too busy trying to get a little peace so I can sleep without slipping into your head and dreams. So excuse me for not acting the way you want me to.”  
            “Guys, could you chill for a second? I’ll go, I just need to be back by Monday.” _I love you guys, but I want to get into law school._  
            “Yeah, Sammy, I’ll make sure we get you back.”  
            “What’s on Monday?” Dean just had to break in.  
            “I have an interview,” Sam answered, looking right at me. _Help, Kal?_  
            “Job interview? Skip it!” I shook my head.  
            “No, Dean, more like a law school interview. It’s his entire future on a plate.”  
            “Oh, so you’re feeding into Sam’s desire for an apple pie life? White picket fence, 2.5 kids?”  
            I levelled another glare at him. “Yes, I am. Mom never wanted this for us. Sam’s the only one that has half a shot at being normal, so why not take it?”  
            “Because we’re supposed to be a _family,_ Allie! Saving people, hunting things, together.”I rolled my eyes. “Hell of a family when it makes us all dead.” My cynical statement was answered with confused looks from both my brothers. “Don’t worry about it, guys. Let’s just go.”  
            Sam left to pack his bags and say his goodbyes to Jessica.  
            _Kallie, what the hell was that?_ I elected to ignore Dean’s question and instead downed the rest of the half-full flask. Thoughts faded out slowly, as did energies. The rest of the night passed in a blur.


	2. Chapter 2

“No adultery is bloodless.” – Natalie Ginzburg

            “One queen room and then another room with two queens, please,” I requested of the person standing behind the counter and passed over one of the many scammed credit cards we had in stock.  
            “Anna Nugent? Are you guys having a family reunion or something?”  
            “You know, we are,” I gushed excitedly. “We haven’t seen our father in quite a while, and thought Jericho would be the perfect place to meet up. I’m guessing you checked him in?” _Nice work, Kallie._ I allowed myself to glow for a second under my brothers’ praise.The guy nodded.  
            “Yeah, he rented the place out for the whole month. You’ve got rooms 47 and 52.” I shot my biggest smile at him as he passed the keys over to me.  
            “You know, could you tell us which room he’s in? We’d really love to see him.”  
            “Sure, he’s checked into room 49.”  
            I patted his hand. “Thank you so much.”  
            Dean coughed as we walked away. “You gonna sleep with that one?”  
             A surprised laugh burst from my lungs. “Uh, no. Not really my type. Let’s go check out Dad’s room.”  
            Dean, of course, was the one to pick the lock on the door. Not surprisingly, the room was vacant of our dearest father.  
            “I didn’t know you had a type, Allie. I thought you just slept with anything having legs.”I whacked the back of Dean’s head for that one.  
            _That hurt, Allie._  
             I snorted and rolled my eyes. “He was married. Come on, Dad was working on something. Although-” I paused, picking up a half-eaten burger and sniffing it, grimacing at the smell. “It looks like he hasn’t been here in a few days.” Sam nodded, agreeing with me, and pointed to the tell-tale newspaper clippings and strings pinned up on the wall.  
            “Looks like dad figured it out. It’s a woman in white.” And, indeed, there was a sticky note under Constance Welsh’s picture in dad’s handwriting confirming what Sam had just said.  
            “Well, I’m hungry,” Dean said after a few beats of silence. “Let’s drop our bags in our rooms and go eat.”  
            “Dean, you’re always hungry.”  
            “Shut it, Allie.” I rolled my eyes but followed them out to the Impala and grabbed my duffel bag anyway. The duffel bag had been obviously patched a few times. Denim squares overlapped each other and contrasted against the army green of the original material. Dean had asked a few times about getting a new one, but I just couldn’t give it up. I hauled it over my shoulder and scuffled to my room, making sure to look properly annoyed when I passed my brothers.  
            Sam followed me in, something I had been half expecting since the minor showdown between we three Winchester spawn.  
            “Kallie-”  
            Tossing my bag on the bed, I flopped next to it and raised my eyebrow at Sam.  
            _Come on, Kallie, we’re worried._  
            “Sam, I’ll talk about it when I want to talk about it. I know you’re more touchy-feely than Dean, but honestly,” I tried to joke, but Baby Brother Moose wasn’t having any of my shit.  
            “You look like hell. Most people can’t see it because they don’t know you, but Kallie, I’m your brother. I know you. I know how you look when you haven’t been able to sleep for weeks without getting drunk. You look exhausted.” _Come on, let me in. Let me help._  
            “You’re already in my head, Sam,” my voice cracked, “I don’t know how much further I can let you in.” The sarcasm fell flat, and that’s how I found myself in baby brother Moose’s slightly crushing hug that never failed to make me feel at least a little better.  
            “Just tell me what’s going on, okay? I know I’m going back for my interview, but that’s what phones are for.”  
            “I don’t know, Sammy. It’s just getting worse. Speaking of, your nightmares suck. They’re worse than they’ve ever been before.”  
            Sam rolled his eyes. “I know that. Just… we’re family, alright? We’re supposed to take care of each other.”  
            “Yeah, and I’m older than you. I’m supposed to be taking care of you.”  
            “Like you let Dean take care of you? He is older than you, after all.”  
            I glared.  
            _You know it’s true, Allie._ Sam had a point, but it was one that I was inclined to ignore.  
            “Dean smothers me with his overbearing big brother antics.”  
            “Look, Kallie, I know there’s something bothering you. Is it the psychic thing?”  
            “I don’t know. I’ll be fine.”  
            _Kal-_  
             “Sam, I said I’ll be fine. Let’s go grab some grub and whiskey, yeah?” Together, we walked to the car before Dean decided to come and drag us out, or worse— leave us behind while he went to eat. I had teased Dean about always being hungry, but my stomach was going to start trying to eat my spine at that moment.  
            “Did you try to talk to her,” Dean asked as Sam swung into the front seat, leaving me to occupy the back seat.  
            “Yeah,” Sam said, glancing back at me and leaving it at that. Dean looked between the two of us.  
            “Well?” His voice was gruff; he didn’t do the whole “sharing feelings” thing well, except when he was concerned about someone else. Even then, it was touch and go. He was particularly concerned about me, and had been since before we dragged Sam away from Stanford. It was slightly suffocating in its intensity. In his energy, it tasted like overly sweet lemon pudding.  
            “You could just ask me, y’know,” I said exasperatedly. Sam ignored me and plowed ahead.  
            “It’s been getting worse, just like we thought.”  
            “Ah.” It was deafeningly quiet in the car; Dean hadn’t even started her up. He just sat there with a concerned look on his face, which was aimed at me through the rear view mirror. I raised an eyebrow. He stayed silent.  
            “Yeah, well, as awesome as this is, I’m out. I’ll get my own damn food.” I opened the back door and swung out, closing it gently behind me. As much as I might have been annoyed at Dean and Sam, I was dead if I scratched or dented Baby.  
            “Wait, Kallie—”  
            “No, Dean. Next time you want to know what’s going on, ask. Don’t make Sammy do it. Better yet, don’t do that and then talk to him about it in front of me.” I walked away from the car. I knew I was overreacting; it didn’t take a psychiatrist to know that. The fact that they had both been concerned about me wasn’t the source of my annoyance. Neither was the fact that Sam had been the one to confront me about the psychic stuff. It was the way they had almost acted like I wasn’t there. I was a pretty touchy person, and that was something I had long since accepted about myself.

My feet eventually found themselves in front of a diner. It had started raining fairly heavily during my walk in the rain, so I was soaked to the bone _and_ my stomach was trying to digest my spine. In the end, it was probably for the best that I had taken a cooling off period alone. The rain had cleared my head and provided a rare bit of serenity for me. I would take my clothes being sodden for that any day.  
            My boots squished quietly against the floor of the diner on my way to the hostess. She was an older woman with completely silver hair. Upon seeing my drenched form, she smiled kindly at me with a little laugh. “Did you get caught in the rain, dear? Oh, no matter, we’ll get you a blanket and some coffee— coffee’s on the house for you. Is it just you this evening?”  
            I couldn’t help but smile back at her grandmotherly manner. Her sunny amusement and sincerity were a welcome contrast to Dean’s cloud of doom and Sam’s mist of angst. “I think so, Alice,” I said, reading her name tag. “Both the coffee and blanket are welcome. Thank you.”  
            She nodded and picked up a menu, pausing with a hand on her hip. “Would you rather a table or a seat up at the bar?” The hand holding the menu gestured toward the mentioned bar. My eyes followed, taking in the very populated tables and the significantly less populated bar.  
            “I think I’ll take the bar. Thank you, Alice.” I followed her to my assigned stool and planted my ass on it. Alice walked out of my sight; not hard, since I had put my head down and closed my eyes after a minute. My soaked-through jacket was hung on the back. I started shivering, relieved when a warm blanket was placed around my shoulders. I opened my eyes as a gray mug full of steaming black coffee was put by my elbow. Alice’s dark hand also pushed a shallow bowl of creamers toward me.  
            “That should help, dear. Umbrellas are mighty useful things. Perhaps you should start carrying one around.” Her teasing words were accompanied by her decidedly warm energy, which wrapped around me much like the warm blanket, further soothing my psychic and emotional feathers. “I’ll leave you to ponder the menu. Be back in a few. Drink your coffee.”  
            I did as told, sipping at the cup and opening the laminated menu. The breakfast hours were apparently over, which ruled out Omlettes, French toast, and pancakes, but the rest of the menu was free to choose from. My phone buzzed in my pocket, signaling a text. I ignored it for a minute and “pondered” the menu. Deciding that a rare steak was definitely the way to go, I put the menu aside and continued sipping at the coffee. That was the moment that it vibrated and didn’t relent, which meant some dumbass was calling me. I pulled out my phone with a sigh, figuring that the dumbass was probably one of my brothers, and my heart dropped a little when “Dad” was the name flashing across the screen.  
            “Hello?”  
            “Kalida, you’re supposed to stay with Dean.” Dad didn’t bother with greetings; he was probably in the middle of something.  
            “I’m good, Dad, how are you? Good? That’s wonderful,” I replied sarcastically. He was _definitely_ not going to be happy with me for that one.  
            “Kalida Ann Winchester, don’t you take that tone with me. I am your father. You will do as I say. March your ass back to the motel and meet your brothers, _now_. It’s not safe to be alone, especially for you,” Dad snapped back at me. _I was right,_ I thought bitterly. Every ounce of peace I had gained from the rain and Alice drained out of me at that moment. My shoulders tensed back up. A headache threatened to bloom.  
            “Everything okay, dear?” Alice was back behind the counter, brown eyes shining with concern. I nodded and gestured for her to give me just a minute more.  
            “Dad, I’m not a kid any more. I’m twenty-four. I can handle myself.”  
            “That was an order, Kalida.”  
            “Love you, too, Dad, I’ll talk to you later.” I hung up on him and sent Sam and Dean identical messages saying that I was fine, and that I’d see them at the motel later. I set the phone on the counter after turning it on silent. Dad wouldn’t be happy with me for hanging up on him like that, but then again… he was never happy with me.  
            “Decided what you want?” Alice was back in front of me, holding a notepad with a pen poised above it.  
            “I’ll have a rare steak with a side of salad, please. Could I bother you for a refill on my coffee,” I asked. Her energy was still warm and inviting, but tinged with concern.  
            “Of course, dear. Are you sure everything’s okay?” She squeezed my hand after writing my order down and stowing the pen away in her apron. Her emotional blanket once again enveloped me. It was stronger this time, as if more potent through physical contact.  
            I squeezed back and nodded. “My dad’s just overprotective. To be honest, he acts more like my personal drill sergeant than my father.”  
            Sympathy threaded through the emotional blanket. _You’re the Winchester girl, aren’t you?_ Alice directly thought to me. I blinked and stiffened in shock. _I knew you had to be a hunter from the look in your eyes when you walked in here, dear._  
            “How..?” I dropped Alice’s hand, running mine through the bright orange flames that I called my hair.  
            “I’m an old friend of Bobby’s. We’ve known each other since he was a child. He called me the day after you ran afoul of that wolf. Said your daddy was gonna kill you one day from all the pressure he put on you kids.” She tutted. “Especially you and Dean. Anyway, I saw a bit of the scar from the wolf and put it with your bright orange hair.” _What other hunter could you be?_ She mentally finished. I pulled my shirt down over the waist of my pants and blushed a bit. _Bobby also mentioned your psychic abilities. It was an accident, of course. That young man didn’t always keep as tight a lip as he does nowadays._  
            “Oh…” It was a bit to process.  
            “I’ll be back with your steak later,” she said aloud, filling up the gray mug with more coffee. The woman walked away to hand my order to the chef and attend to other customers.  
            I flipped my phone open to see a handful of missed calls each from Sam, Dean, Dad, and surprisingly, Bobby. There were also a considerable amount of texts from my brothers, mostly apologizing and pleading me to go back to the motel. After sending a round of texts to them saying that I was just grabbing a bite to eat and repeating that I’d be back, I decided I’d give Bobby a call back.  
            The other line rang three times before he picked up. “Hello?”  
            “Hey, Bobby,” I greeted. “I saw you called.”              
            “You’re gonna give me a heart attack one of these days, girl. Your idjit brothers and daddy called, said you were missin’. You wanna tell me what that’s all about?” It wasn’t really a suggestion, but I was always a bit more inclined to listen to Bobby than my father.  
            “They’re overreacting, Bobby. I’m fine. Argued with Princess Deanna and Baby Brother Moose, walked it off. I’m safe and sound in a diner.” I took a long drink of coffee.  
            “Are you sure you should be in that crowded of an area? Your brothers said it was gettin’ worse.”  
            “I’m fine, Bobby. It’s not that busy right now.”  
            Alice chose that moment to sit a plate with my steak and potatoes on it and another with salad on it in front of me, eyes alight with amusement. “That Bobby?”  
            “Damn it, Kallie, if it’s getting as bad as they’re making it out to be, it doesn’t matter how crowded it is.”  
            “I’m _fine,_ Bobby. I’m functioning perfectly okay right now.” I took another sip from my coffee. Alice motioned for me to give the phone to her.  
            “You should be eating, not jabbering away to a stubborn old man,” she berated me, half-joking. I smiled and gave her the phone halfway through Bobby reiterating what he had said before.     
            “Bobby, she’s okay. She’s with me,” Alice told him sternly. “You’re interrupting her getting a square meal for the fourth time in her life.” She wandered away, jabbering to him, as she had put it.  
            I stabbed the steak with the fork and started cutting my way through it, almost drooling when the steak was revealed to be mostly pink and very juicy on the inside. The first bite was heavenly, as was the second, the third, and the whole damn steak.  
            “Enjoying that steak?” An unfamiliar man had slid into the stool next to me.  
            “No, I’m making this face because I hate it,” I said sarcastically. The man was fairly short, with somewhat straight brown hair that framed his face and eyes like sunshine through a glass of whiskey. He had a bit of a mischievous air about him, but something about him was sunny and warm, a bit like Sammy during the times I had gone to see him at Stanford.  
            “That’s quite the strange expression of disgust, then,” he teased.  
            “Nobody ever said I wasn’t strange.”  
            “Listen here, Bobby, you tell your girl to start carrying around an umbrella, or she’ll catch pneumonia one of these days.” Alice sent a look to me, placing a mug of hot chocolate next to me as well as one next to Shorty, balancing my phone between her shoulder and her ear. She took the phone in her hand, still pressing it to her ear. “I don’t care that they aren’t practical, Robert. You could make one practical. It’s better than being out of commission for a few weeks because of pneumonia.” She motioned for me to keep eating, and to drink the hot chocolate she had given me. “She was shivering up a storm when she walked in here! Soaked to the bone, she was.” A pause. “Of course I gave her a blanket, Bobby. Do I strike you as an imbecile? I didn’t think so.”  
            I finished my potatoes and salad, earning a nod from Alice as well as a pointed look at the hot chocolate.  
            “It’s better not to question her,” Shorty said when I rolled my eyes at the hostess. “She might not look like much, but that woman can be as fierce as a lion.”  
            Sipping at my hot chocolate, I shrugged. “Learned a long time ago that appearances deceive.”  
            Shorty made a vague sound of agreement. “Well, it’s been a pleasure, but I gotta run,” he said with a smile. “Maybe I’ll catch you around some time.”  
            I laughed. “Unlikely.” I waved as he walked away. Alice returned my phone to me.  
            “Now, dear, don’t let them run you into the ground. You just take care of yourself.” After a grandmotherly pat on my cheek, she picked up my empty plates and mug and sauntered off to take care of them. _Don’t bother paying for any of it, dear. That nice young man that sat by you did the honours._  
           

            There was honestly no steeling myself beyond what I had achieved on the walk back from the diner. So without any preamble, I waltzed into my brothers’ motel room and crossed my arms. Sam was on the bed furthest from the door with a beer. Dean was nowhere to be seen, but the shower was running.  
            “Please tell me you didn’t go to the bridge.”  
            Sam looked down sheepishly. “We didn’t think you’d want to check it out with us.” The shower ceased.  
            I sighed and flopped onto Dean’s bed. “Well, what did you find out?”  
            “We’ve got one seriously pissed off woman in white. Something tells me she wants us to stop digging,” Dean piped up. The door swung open to reveal him with a towel around his waist.  
            I raised an eyebrow. “As do most ghosts and pissed off spirits. What happened?”  
            Sam grinned. “Constance drove us off the bridge with Baby. Dean ended up in the river.”  
            Dean glared at our chuckling selves. “Shut up.”  
            “Okay, okay, so what do we know?”  
            “Constance’s husband was unfaithful and she cracked, drowned her kids, then bit the dust.”  
            “Charming, Dean.” At least the taste of their concern was less prominent in their energies. I could handle a hint of lemon pudding, but I didn’t want to bathe in it.  
            Dean smirked. “Always.”  
            “Mr. Welsh said he buried her on their old property. We could look into that,” Sam offered.  
            “I vote we do that tomorrow. It’s already dark. You guys have had a run in with her tonight already. Anyone in their right mind is going to avoid that bridge.”  
            “I have to be—”  
            “Back by Monday, we know. We’ll nab this ghostie tomorrow night then start driving back,” I cut him off. “If you really want, we can do it now, but…”  
            _Kallie, I’m worried about Jesse. The dreams haven’t stopped._  
            “Okay, okay, I’ll leave Dean to get dressed. I’ll be in my room.”  
            The good thing about being a few doors down from them was that their energies and thoughts weren’t smothering me. The bad thing? Well, their energies weren’t as easy to focus on with the rooms between us occupied. All things considered, the walk down the hall of the dingy motel wasn’t terrible. Most occupants were in the throes of passion. There wasn’t much coherent thought to bring me to my knees; in that aspect, it was much better than a church or a hospital. On the other hand, the amount of lust and ecstasy was almost overwhelming.  
            Or it was, anyway, until it was suddenly softened. Not completely, but enough for me to breathe easier. It was like a blanket had been draped over my “inner sense.”

            In my room, I rifled through my weapons bag, trying to decide what to bring. The shovels were always in the truck of the Impala, as well as salt and accelerant— I wouldn’t need to worry about those. Handgun? Well, it never hurt to have one just in case. Knives? Slashing at Casper wasn’t ideal, but again— just in case.  
            I put the silver bullets on the mustard yellow blanket. They would be useless on Casper: a complete waste of two days’ work.  
            _Sawed-off shotgun? Check. More salt rounds than I think I’ll need? Check. Full flask?_ The flask proved to be three-quarters empty. _Ah, I’ll get some later tonight._  
            _Knock, knock, Kallie,_ Dean’s mental voice sung. The slight bitterness from the river incident still lingered, but other than that, he was happy. Mostly. A physical knock followed.  
            “Come in.” The shotgun holster swung into place, followed by the sawed-off. My handgun and knife were already in place on my thighs.  
            “I’m dressed.” _You ready to roast this bitch?_  
            “Obviously,” I retorted. “Are _you_ ready?”  
            “Yeah, let’s go.”

****

            Later, we sat in the Impala, completely exhausted. In my infinite wisdom, I had been separated from them while looking for Constance’s grave. That proved useless, as there were hundreds of trees that could have been marking it and I wasn’t about to start digging on my own.  
            Dean had decided to get out and follow me, because apparently I needed looking after.           
            Sam had stayed in the car on the bridge just a smidge too long. He had been on his way back from getting a bite to eat, assuming that Dean and I would have found the grave by the time he got back. He was wrong. Constance had shown up and demanded that he take her home. Sam almost died, Dean shot Casper in the face; it was a good night. Apparently Constance melted into a puddle with her kids. Case closed.

            We rumbled up to the motel parking lot, all of us dead tired. Slowly, Dean turned the key and she stopped. Sam groaned.  
            “I can’t believe we actually choose to do this,” I grumbled. My head was throbbing. The psychic backlash of Constance’s spirit moving on that violently was a little bit hellish. Salting and burning was usually met with less terror and pain.  
            “Buck up, buttercup. You’ve been through worse.” Dean was still worried. Tart lemon pudding had been on my tongue since I had sat down in the back of the car.  
            “You sound like Dad.” The comment flew from my tongue without much thought.  
            A beat of silence, then “He wasn’t here,” from Sam. Another beat of silence.  
            “Yeah, I’ll bet he found something and wanted us to take care of this.” _Something to do with Yellow-Eyes._ Dean hadn’t meant for me to hear that; it was obvious from his glance back at me to keep quiet.  
            I shook my head wearily and opened the car door, slowly straightening out. The moonlight reflected off the Impala. “We should get some rest, boys.” I took a swig of whiskey and started walking back to my room. “Night,” I called over my shoulder.

            Approximately ten hours later, we were back at Stanford.  
            “I’ll walk you in.” I took Sam’s bag and followed him into his apartment. Every step made me tenser, more ready for action. It wasn’t until we were at his door that I understood why and hoped to God that I was wrong. _Sulfur._ “Sam…”  
            He smiled at me. “Yeah, I’ll miss you too.” He took his bag from me and continued walking in.  
            “No, that’s not— Sam!”  
            “Jess, I’m home!” The shower was running.  
            “Sam, there’s—” I was cut off by Sam and Jess screaming, then the blooming of flames.  
            “Sam!” Apparently Dean had caught up with me. We ran into his room together.  
            “Sammy, there’s nothing you can do. She’s gone,” Dean’s voice sounded. Smoke filled the apartment. Sam wouldn’t budge.  
            “Sammy, come on, we have to get out of here!” Dean and I each grabbed an arm and fought to pull him out. We all got to safety and the rest was a confusion of sirens and smoke. I was in the grips of a migraine, which was evidently enough to send me to the hospital when combined with smoke inhalation.  
            “No hospital,” I tried to mumble, but the slightest movement of my mouth sent pain shooting through both my temples. The words were lost in my groan of pain. Paramedics strapped me down to a gurney. The sirens ceased.  
            “I’m Hermes. Can you tell me what hurts?”  
            I brought my hand up to my head, not recognizing the voice in the midst of my pain.  
            “Anything else?”  
            _My airways burn,_ I tried to reply, but it didn’t make it out of my mouth. Soft hands smoothed my hair back and brushed my forehead, erasing all my pain. He kissed my forehead. That was the last thing I remembered that night.

            Hours later, I woke up in a hotel bed with Dean reading by my side. Sam was over at the table on his laptop.  
            “I don’t understand, there were no omens before we left.”  
            “I know, Sammy. The only omens were the day we got back.”  
            I coughed, apparently choking on the charcoal flavor of Sam’s guilt and mourning. Nothing came of the hacking, but it was insistent.  
            “Kallie? Kallie, hey. Breathe.” Dean’s hands were on my cheeks, green eyes filled with concern. The tart flavor of lemon pudding only made my coughing worse. My eyes filled with tears. “Kalida, breathe, dammit,” he snapped, lightly tapping my cheeks. I hauled a deep breath in, focusing on only the tart flavor of Dean’s energy, and tried to block out Sam. It worked, to a point. It was still enough to let me gain some equilibrium.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while! Sorry if it seems rushed, but here it is. I'll probably flesh it out and slow it down later. I just wanted to finally get this out.  
> If you are willing to beta or let me bounce ideas off of you, please contact me. You can find me on tumblr as sassdoctordeath. Thanks for reading.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys! I started this in the summer and decided to start posting it. This chapter is 2,826 words and about 5 pages on Word. Apologies if it’s a bit too long. So far, everything I have is about 31 pages, but I’ve been skipping around “chapters” or places in the fic. What’s good is that I think I know where I want this to go. I’ll post as often as I can, but there aren’t any guarantees. My life is a little chaotic right now.  
> Anyway, this fic starts off following the canon SPN storyline with a few twists in it (obviously). This is actually my version of the “Pilot” episode. As far as the X-Men part goes, I basically just took Marvel’s characters and decided to play with them. I don’t think it follows any canon storyline of any of the various X-Men TV series’ or comics.  
> Oh, I know there’s none of the X-Men yet, but you’ll see. I’m totally not smiling creepily at you right now.  
> As stated above, I own nothing except Kalida.  
> Please note that you can also find this on my fanfiction.net account, which is Deathy Baby. I promise I didn’t plagiarize! However, if you do find this on another account, please let me know so that I can take the steps to get it taken down. I’m proud of this work as a whole, and it would be a shame not to get credit for my own work.  
> Also, this chapter is unbeta'd.  
> P.S. I just realized that the reason Archive of Our Own’s acronym is AO3 is because there’s an A and then three O’s… I feel stupid now. I hope nobody reads this part. If you did, just know that I am extremely embarrassed. Good day.


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